Making the Family Skeletons Dance
by curiositykilled
Summary: Out-of -order scribbles from one of my several headcanons. Rating might change as chapters are posted - I'm still a little iffy on how to rate these things. Title is from a George Bernard Shaw quote: "If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance." It seemed fitting for the Avengers.
1. Lady Loki's Pajamas

"This is a terrible idea. He's just going to turn us into frogs or spiders – Natasha'd like that – or candy. Oh god. What if he turns us into candy, and then-"

"Stark, shut up," Natasha suggested.

The seven other "Avengers and Co." – comprised of the superhero team plus Pepper, Jane and Coulson (he insisted he was simply there to call Fury when Earth's Mightiest Heroes sparked trouble on Christmas Day) – shifted awkwardly outside the apartment door. The landing on which they stood was meant for, maybe, five regular-sized people and definitely didn't take into account the possibility for super soldiers or gods to occupy its space. As such, Thor and Jane had moved to the stairs leading up , and Pepper, Coulson and Clint had settled on the ascending staircase. Everyone seemed to be waiting for someone else to knock on the door or abort the mission so they could just get back to the tower. Whichever option was more likely was highly debatable.

"Alright. This is getting ridiculous," Steve sighed and raised his fist to rap twice on the wooden door as Clint muttered something along the lines of "getting?".

There was then a few quiet moments before soft footsteps too faint for anyone but the super soldier, spy and demi-god to hear padded over to the door. A quiet click of a lock, and Loki's door opened to reveal…_not_ Loki.

A slender woman, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, scowled at the motley crew in an unnervingly familiar glare. Although she was wearing a too-big t-shirt and loose pajama pants, the swell of breast and hip were apparent enough to have Tony gaping and Steve a burning scarlet.

"My apologies, miss, but we're looking for Loki Od-" Steve started, only to be cut off as Thor stepped forward.

"Brother! It has been many a year since I laid eyes on this form of yours," he greeted exuberantly, not in the slightest bit bothered by the green that sparked him when he tried to cross the threshold.

"Is Loki wearing an Avengers shirt?" Clint muttered sideways to Coulson.

Noting the cartoonified six on the baggy t-shirt as well, Pepper tried to stifle a laugh while closing Tony's mouth. Most the group seemed unbothered by Loki's new look, but Tony and Steve were still reeling. Coulson and Bruce hadn't know either, but neither gave much indication of surprise. Unsurprisingly, they'd done a better job of researching their sometimes-villain.

"What do you want, Thor?" Loki's voice, though certainly a woman's, carried all the venom of her more usual form.

"It is Christmastide – a Midgardian holiday tha-" Thor began before Loki held up a pale hand.

"I know of Christmas, oaf. What I as referring to was the reason for your mortals' encampment on my stoop," she snapped.

"We were hoping to help you celebrate, " Jane started tentatively.

"Point Break threw on those puppy dog eyes – I swear, he could get Fury to hand over the world with those – speaking of which, you could have totally taken over the world – for real, this time – if you just shimmied into this little number and sho-" Tony added.

"There are many things I would change were my plan to conquer Midgard, Stark. Throwing you from a window, I think, is not among them," Loki interrupted before turning to the rest with a sigh, "You may as well enter given your presence."

The door had been cracked open just wide enough for Loki's body to block any view of the apartment, but as she relented and opened it completely, they were all met with some measure of surprise. Wide open and sparse, it was not, as many had anticipated, suffocatingly green and black and villianish, nor was it pasted with images of Odin and fluff and random, semi-naked men (Tony _may_ have suggested the last part in reference to himself, but most of them were dubious as to his qualifications). While green was present, the whole library-slash-lounge into which they walked was both minimalist and neat. Thor silently slumped at the absence of his brother's general messiness, though nearly tripping over an invisible stack of books caused his grin to return.

"Sit," Loki ordered coolly before vanishing into an adjoining room.

"Okay, 'fess up: who knew Loki moonlights as a Victoria's Secret Angel?" Tony hissed almost immediately.

After a few guilty glances, Clint, Natasha, Thor and Pepper raised reluctant hands. Tony gaped, appalled, and pressed a dramatic hand to his chest. Once again, Pepper nudged his jaw back into place.

"He – uh kind of switched a lot when he first arrived," Clint confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Aside from those with raised hands, no one else knew about Loki crashing into Clint after his painful stint back in Thanos' hands, and he'd been more than happy to keep it that way.

"She is my brother, Stark," Thor chided, "Of course I know of her shapeshifting. She is marvelously adept."

Clint flashed a quick, grateful glance at the thunder god, who returned it with a faint smile. Meanwhile, Bruce mentally winced at the gender confusion in Thor's words, but then again – _how do you refer to your brother who was a woman?_

"In fact, her abilities have saved us from many unpleasant situations," Thor chuckled fondly, "There was one time when-"

"Thor married a Frost Giant," Loki finished as she returned with two bottles of amber liquid in hand.

Thor's scarlet blush made it overly clear that this was _not_ the story he had in mind, but they were more intrigued by this summary than his objections. Sliding sly eyes towards her flustered brother, Loki continued handing out tumblers and deliberately ignored Steve's polite refusal.

"If I'm to host the Avengers, then none of us are remaining sober," she muttered under her breath, before saying to the rest, "Didn't you know? He makes for quite the blushing bride."

"Please, tell me you saved the wedding album," Tony begged.

Steve, having given in an accepted a glass, leaned against the couch and shook his head slightly as Loki began weaving the tale. It was little wonder she was called Silvertongue, he mused; threads seemed to be pulled out of thin air to weave together the ridiculous story, pulling each member of the audience close until they could nearly reach out and touch Thor's necessary wedding veil. Not for the first time, he found himself wondering at the oddity his life had become. Two assassins, a secret agent, three genius scientists and a CEO sitting around to have a drink on Christmas while they listened to a fantastical and true story involving giants, magic hammers and shapeshifting – some part of his subconscious was still convinced he was dreaming and would wake up to his scrawny arms and asthma-tightened lungs.

"Steve? Cap, you okay?" Tony queried, nudging the captain with his leg.

Steve glanced up, taking in his misfit family. Even Loki with her occasional attempts at villainy was somehow a part of this illogical, incomprehensible family.

"Yeah," he replied after a moment, "I've never been happier."

* * *

**AN: **I really should apologize for this and all its crackiness, but it was a lot of fun to write. I really just wanted to do something with shapeshifter!Loki [because I love that part of him and hate how the movie totally skimmed over it], and then I had the idea of him wearing Avenger night clothes [thus the title] and just ran with it. I'll probably retitle it once I upload more scribbles from this headcanon.


	2. In Pursuit of Kleenexes

Darcy hesitated, one hand raised to knock. She'd heard the yelling and panicking downstairs, and Loki's door was just slightly ajar, which didn't bode well, but she really seriously needed Kleenexes, and she was pretty sure that Mr. I'm-an-Immortal-God didn't get the common cold. C'mon, Darce, at least if he kills you it'll probably be sort of quick. I mean, it's not like he can torture you with the entire Avengers upstairs…hopefully. Shoving the possibility of him being able to control time, magically soundproof a room or otherwise manage to make torture an option, she rapped gently on the door. No reply from within came, and the door slowly swung a little further.

"Loki? Hey, Lokes – you in here?" she called warily, stepping a cautious foot over the threshold, though her body was still mostly protected by the door.

She really wasn't sure how much protection a plain wooden door offered against an evil sorcerer, but hey, it was better than nothing, right? Tiptoeing across the room towards the door to the bathroom – the apartments in Stark-cum-Avengers Tower all had pretty much the same layout – she grew increasingly relieved at Loki's apparent nonpresence, until she actually made it to the bathroom and froze.

Of course, her first thought was the entirely irrational wonder at where the mirror was – she knew for a fact that, back when Jane still used these rooms instead of Thor's, there had been a plain white-framed mirror over the sink. And then – oh hey, there's a busted up demi-god bleeding over the sink and sort of looking like he can't breathe! Whaddayaknow.

She froze, then, because damn, Loki looked like shit. And he definitely didn't look like the skinny bookworm Thor had described - sure, he wasn't jacked like Thor, but he was definitely ripped in his own, lean way. But back to the looking like shit. His whole back, most of it anyway, was covered in a rough, scratchy abrasion like he'd rubbed up too hard against a brick wall (cue all sorts of inappropriate thoughts running through her head with that one), and she could see a hint of bruising along his arm and cheek.

"Don't worry, Miss Lewis," he abruptly murmured, "I've no intention to harm you."

And that, for all the venom and evility in his tone, was scarily reassuring.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that. What'd you do - take on the Hulk?" she snorted.

Loki's back stiffened, and she could see enough of his face to note the tightening of his jaw and thin lips. He straightened slowly, cracking some of the scabs on his back from which red began to reluctantly trudge, and turned to face her. That, she decided, was freaky - especially with the way green was burning in his eyes like the fire he'd conjure up in a battle. If Darcy Lewis was a wise woman, she would have fled at this point. She did not.

"Why are you here?" he demanded coldly, all civility gone.

Oh, right. She wasn't actually here to check out and taunt beat up, sort-of sexy supervillains. Oops.

"Uh, you have Kleenexes?" she asked.

For the briefest moment, she felt a flush of victory at Loki's blank face before he stepped to the side and opened the bottom of the sink with the tips of his fingers. She paused just a second before crouching, grabbing the unopened tissue box, and standing in record time. That something hadn't cracked into the back of her head and killed her was definitely counted as a victory. That her life had gotten to the point where not getting killed while getting a Kleenex box counted as a victory was not.

"Okay, thanks," she called over her shoulder while hurrying from the room. There was no reason to press her luck.

Outside his door, she leaned back against the wall to take a deep breath and had her face immediately assaulted by the world's most violent sneeze. Of course.

"Well, 'least I've got you," she muttered, ripping open the cardboard box and liberating the 'ultra plush' white tissues.

It was time for hot cocoa, a snuggly blanket and 'The Notebook.'


	3. Saving Jane

She was dying. Even without having studied anatomy past high school, Jane knew that the damage sustained to her pelvis and abdomen was far more than a regular human could stand. Maybe a super soldier or a god could take getting both hips and a good portion of their spine crushed, but the blood pooled beneath her broken body told her that she would not be so lucky.

By now, she wasn't really scared; she was pretty sure that had passed after the ceiling caved in and she realized she could no more move her legs than Helen Keller could read _War and Peace_. In hindsight, that wasn't the best analogy, but she was a little more concerned on other things at the moment.

Thor was a big one; they'd been dating (officially) for two and a half years now, almost to the date, and the entire team recently had begun hinting at a wedding. Jane wasn't really sure she bought into that – Thor was immortal, so far as they could tell, so what would two or three years of 'courting' be to him? All the same, she loved him, and thinking of leaving him forever in the next couple minutes caused a pain like an appendectomy without anesthesia.

Then, of course, came Erik. He'd been her father more or less since her parents died all those years ago – supported her through her graduate program, believed in her supposed insanity with the Einstein Rosen Bridge and even given his blessing over her dating an alien who'd dropped out of the sky claiming to be a god. She was determined, yes, but without his continued assistance and caretaking over the years, there was no way she'd have ever accomplished what she had.

The team slipped in alongside Erik. Thor had been one thing, but when she'd been invited to work with Tony Stark – _the _Anthony E. Stark – and live in the haphazardly renamed Avengers Tower alongside the superheroes who'd saved the world together and individually, well, she'd had to take a sudden seat on the couch to grasp the thought. Darcy was still around, too – they were all pretty sure SHIELD was just being stubborn and not letting her out of their grasp, not that she wanted to leave – and between her and Tony, it was a wonder anyone ever slept in the tower. The hijinks they got up to were enough to put Thor's little brother to shame.

"Ah. The woman."

Speak of the devil and he doth appear.

"I have a name," Jane spat out, startled by how much effort it took to rasp that.

"Hush, now," Loki murmured, crouching beside her.

Gone was the armor and leather the trickster was generally spotted in, replaced instead by a loose grey t-shirt and plain jeans. It was a good look, Jane mused randomly before catching herself. She was about to be humiliated by her supposed future brother-in-law while she was in the midst of dying. Not the time to note that he looked better in everyday clothes than intricate armor.

A cold hand sent a startled shiver down her body as Loki scowled, green eyes flitting closed; immediately, she could feel fire racing through her body. Magic, she assumed. He lifted his hand a moment and leaned into the chunk of concrete weighing down on her lower portion. As it moved, she decided that had to be magic, too (either that or near-death hallucinations) because there was no way anyone could just shove a hunk of concrete. As soon as the pressure was removed, two strong arms slid beneath her to lift her; she could only feel the one just below her shoulders, but she assumed the other was at her knees since she couldn't feel any weight pulling down on her spine as it would if her body was just hanging.

_Great_. Not only was she dying, but now Loki was going to kidnap her. _That _could only end well, especially once the Avengers found out and went on their usual rampage to find her. On the bright side, she'd probably die before he could do anything to her, and maybe the team would actually get a chance to catch Undesirable No. 1. _Oh god, _that's_ the bright side?_

"This may sting a bit," he murmured softly, and she realized with a start that she was laying on the ground again, though she seemed mostly level.

His hand was once again on her shoulder like five slender ice cubes, and then the fire came back. Searing through the length of her body, it settled in her stomach and legs until she couldn't see except for white, white burning pain. Her mouth opened screamed out without her bidding. Loki's hand tightened, and after a moment, the burning lessened. Then, blessed, tingling cool slipped from his hand into her shoulder until it danced down to her toes and made them curl up in surprise. _Wait. _Toes… Confusion and horror filled her gaze. He was healing her before torturing her? Did his depravity know no bounds?

"The Avengers should find you here," Loki was saying, "but if they don't, you should be fine to walk soon."

_Avengers…walk…_ his words filtered slowly through her mind, cloudy and broken up before it finally hit her. Loki had just saved her. Brows furrowing, she turned to him with a thousand questions in her eyes.

"Why?" she managed to whisper. _Why save me? Why are you here? Why do you hate our world? Why do you have to hurt Thor?_

He shrugged, green eyes grinning in a way that would make a single woman weep.

"He's my brother."

* * *

**AN: **This one goes pretty directly with 'In Pursuit of Kleenexes', which could theoretically go with 'Lady Loki's Pajamas.' The order would be this, then IPoK, then LLP.


	4. Drunk Avengers

It was a strange party, all in all. Four Avengers and Public Enemy No. 1 sitting in a bar getting wasted because that was the only thing that could outweird the fact that _Loki_ had just saved the Avengers – and Paris – from utter destruction at the hands of some giant rage monkeys (Tony had been working on a better name for them, but Clint had summed it up pretty damn well) by turning them into flowers. If Tony hadn't already asked Thor if his brother's problem was that he had secretly been Thor's _sister_ all his – _her? _– life, he was going to, and soon.

"This isn't fair," Tony whined, "I mean, I figured _Thor _would be able to outdrink us – thunder god and all – but _Loki? _You're like a _kid_."

Spinning the bottle between his fingertips, Loki snorted derisively.

"I can outdrink Thor," he corrected haughtily.

Clint scowled, Tony perked up and Steve inched dangerously close to a lecture.

"How?" Tony demanded.

"Tony, I don't th-" Steve started.

"Shush. Slim Shady's gotta' explain," Tony declared in his best attempt at authoritativeness.

"…Slim Shady?" Clint echoed, staring at the billionaire.

"What?" Tony demanded.

"Slim. Shady. He's a rapper's fucking alter ego," the archer protested.

"And?"

"You hardly spare a thought when he references reindeer despite the lack of _any_ antlers on my attire," Loki pointed out.

"Well, yeah," Clint agreed before pausing, "What _is_ your helmet, anyway?"

Loki stiffened and Thor grinned in a way that seemed entirely too mischievous to belong to the elder god.

"That is none of your concern," the trickster hissed, a warning unheeded in his low voice.

"It is an excellent tale," Thor chortled merrily.

"Thor, _no_," Loki snapped.

"Wait, you're going to answer him but not _me? I_ asked _first_," Tony complained.

"Tony, you need to stop drinking. You're being rude," Steve sighed tiredly.

"Magic," Loki pitched in abruptly.

"Uh?" Clint and Tony both managed at the same time before Tony's shoulders slumped in irritation, "Don't just say it's some fucking magic trick. I have had it up to _here _with magic. And for chrissake, why _flowers?_"

"Magic requires far more energy than just a physical body," Loki answered slowly before a light of understanding danced over his features, "Oh. Money would have caused violence, bread could potentially injure someone and water would have been worthless. The flowers were at least handsome."

Clint blinked owlishly.

"…you thought about all of that?" Steve finally queried.

Loki shrugged with an elegant roll of his shoulder.

"I like Paris," he answered simply.

"So you aren't a girl. You're just a shit villain," Tony commented bluntly, "So, you have a freakishly high metabolism – as compared to _Thor's_ metabolism, which is nearly double that of Steve's, which is about that of a normal human's. Of course, _that _makes sense."

The sorcerer had stiffened at the first sentence, defensive guards coming down over his venom green eyes and in the tightness of his sharp jaw. _Oops_, Tony thought belatedly. Perhaps insulting a supervillain while they were on good terms with you was not the best plan of action.

"I would hate to grow predictable," Loki answered coolly.

"Of course – god of Chaos, right? Are you even a god anymore?" Tony started, "I mean, you've pretty solidly fucked that up, haven't you? Can gods be demoted? You aren't a prince or whatever – right? Adop-"

"Tony. We are leaving," Steve growled, his hand closing hard over the smaller man's shoulder and collarbone.

Loki's face had smoothed into mild interest and mostly apathy during Tony's rant, but Thor's jaw had hardened into an angry clench Tony had only seen once before, and the sky outside was rapidly darkening. For once, the billionaire let himself be led away – not that he really had a choice.

Later, when he was once again locked into his workshop with a little Ozzy blaring to clear his mind, Tony was startled to glance up and see a much-calmer god of thunder standing before him. _What the hell – if he broke the fucking doo-_ but the door was very much intact, as well as the wall. _Weird._

"I would have words with you, Stark," Thor declared in a low rumble that instantly made Tony wary.

"Uh-huh, right away," he agreed, muting the music.

"My brother is not a man to be trifled with," Thor started.

"Yeah, kinda' noticed," Tony snorted – like the first few times Loki'd caused mayhem hadn't made _that_ clear.

"I mean it, Stark. Loki wields incomprehensible power, and he is of a chaotic nature that would see it loosed upon your world with the merest suggestion. He is a god and prince of Asgard – those titles never will be or can be stripped from him – and as such, you owe him the same respect paid towards me. I do not ask you to attempt any affection for him or even a lack of dislike – that is not your due. It is, however, your obligation to protect this realm, and as such, taunting a powerful adversary is of the utmost irresponsibility. Bear in mind that destroying your realm would be little more than a fleeting thought for Loki," the god continued in the same low, warning tone.

Tony rubbed his neck and cocked his head to study Thor. He could act like the biggest, most lovable puppy one moment and then suddenly, he was all solemnity and wisdom. It was little wonder that Fury focused so much of his time on Thor when the god was of so unreadable a nature. The rest of them, at least, were pretty steady in their evasion tactics: Clint and Natasha were mostly aloof spies, though Clint occasionally broke down into a more friendly manner; Bruce was skittish and brilliant; Steve was too flawless and compassionate. Tony – well, Tony was their resident asshole.

"Okay, I get it. Don't piss off the super powerful evil wizard," he agreed, "Any suggestions on what to avoid?"

Thor paused, clearly taking the query seriously.

"Most of what was mentioned today," he mused before clarifying, "Femininity, his seidr, his place among the ás, and above all, his heritage."

"Okay, get the last two. Feminity? Is Asgard really _that _homophobic?" Tony demanded.

For a moment, the god looked genuinely abashed and a faint flush flitted to his cheeks. Not for the first time, Tony had to wonder what the Allspeak had translated his words to; Thor had mentioned, once, that it wasn't always perfect and often left strange accents or slight misunderstandings. (_Lord of the Rings_ had been declared a no-go the moment they discovered that the elves' accent was somewhere along the lines of a Vietnamese-faux Irish cross)

"I know not of that word, but Loki often was considered…_argr –_ unmanly – because of his seidr and use of tricks. It is not considered proper for a prince to prefer studying or magic to war," he explained, shame creeping into his voice.

Tony stared.

"So, because he wasn't a warmonger, everyone called him a girl. Did you?" he repeated.

Thor's shamefaced expression and downcast eyes were generally answer enough; though, admittedly, Tony held judgment until he found out whether Thor really had been a total douche to his brother, or if he simply felt guilty because it had happened.

"More than I should have," the god admitted.

"Hey, it's okay," Tony soothed, alarmed by the crestfallen expression Thor was sporting, "That can't have been the only thing to send him over the edge. I mean, he's got to have had a little more incentive."

Thor nodded slightly, though his expression was still cloudy.

"Aye, I imagine you to be correct," he agreed before clearing his face with a brilliant smile, "I will let you return to your work, Anthony. You will have to join the rest of our shieldbrethren in dining tonight; Lady Natasha has promised a most peculiar fowl of turkey, duck and chicken."

Like he said: millennia-old god one moment, golden retriever puppy the next.

"Yeah, yeah; I'll be up for dinner," Tony yawned, waving the god away.

* * *

**AN: **I'm thinking of taking these interconnected stories and just making them into a fic on their own. Thoughts?


	5. God of Chaos: Chapter One

He knew, as soon as he let go of the incantation, that his glamour had fallen. Perhaps been utterly, gracelessly obliterated was more accurate – not that it really mattered. Either way, he was standing in the midst of a trampled city with frozen blue skin and eyes the color of blood. He didn't need to lift his gaze to see the horrorstruck, revolted looks on the Avengers' faces. He was plenty skilled at picturing them mentally.

_Breathe. Just…_ he reminded himself firmly, silently. He knew of only one way to reverse the change and also knew that _that_ particular cure would not be even a remote possibility. He would simply have to wait it out – preferably in a dark, cool hole in the ground where no one else would have to see him. _No mirrors, either _he thinks without thinking.

"Hey, where'd th- holy _fuck_," Clint hissed, ever eloquent.

"Um… Thor? Why's Loki blue?"

_Monster, are you not always calling yourself? Perhaps now you can prove it_, a cold, flat voice suggested. If it rang of darkness and piercing, cold blue dreams, then it was nothing new; Thanos had left more than physical scars on the once-god.

"Dear brother, have you not often said that my blood matters not?" he queried just loudly enough for Thor to hear, "Do you still believe that lie?"

_(It wasn't a lie, much as he hated to know that. One of the unfortunate side effects of his godhood was that he could always tell a lie – could hear it sing to him – and yet, he could not make something a lie if it was not, no matter how he could not believe the truth.)_

Turning slowly, he held his arms outstretched slightly to the side to better display his cerulean skin and kept his lips in a smirk just supple enough to not look forced. Even in this foreign, icy body, he could still feel his body move instinctively in the same way it always had. _Still me, still me, still me _prayed his unsteady heart.

The surprise on Thor's face was not quite the horror and revulsion Loki had hoped for, but it was a start. At least the great Thunderer stumbled a step backward and faltered a moment before stubbornness took over his features and he forced himself forward.

_Disappointing_, Loki mused reluctantly, letting his seidr – not the familiar green fire but this strange, innate white – flow down his arm and form into a sharp, clear knife not unalike his standard throwing knives. While the weight was slightly different, Loki was not known for his adeptness with knives because he could only use one type. This would suit his purpose very well.

"Tell me, Thor, how many jotunns have you slain? Would saving one atone for that blood?" he chuckled, low and dark as his not-brother strode stubbornly forward, "Not so hasty, or dear Natasha will be rather the worse for it."

Both the Widow and Thor froze at that jovial threat, and Loki grinned his typical smirk. Like his obedience would save Thor's shield-brethren from Loki now. Admittedly, it was in their aid that he had lost his glamour, but he was not the god of chaos for his predictability.

"Brother, I have known of your jotunn heritage," Thor protested, "I do not care whether you are blue or green or purple – you are Loki _and my brother_."

A careless flick of his wrist, and the ice-dagger went sailing through the air and found its resting place deep in the shoulder socket of the archer, melting just slowly enough to rend the flesh and cut the tendons there. At his pained yell, the Widow lunged into motion, and Loki sidestepped, a frozen blade sinking into her side. Her eyes widened in shock, but she grit her teeth and kept moving. Even without her injury, though, her speed was no match for this body; for every twist and kick she threw at him, his lithe body could evade and dodge and meet with burning hands or piercing ice.

Adding 'become familiar with this body' to his never-ending checklist, Loki flung out his hand to project an energy shield to repel Mjolnir – he was, admittedly, a little surprised that Thor had thrown the hammer and not attempted a more careful approach. _'My brother' – pretty lie._ A second shudder through the dome announced the good Captain's attack, and many little tremors told of the one-armed archer's gunfire. The Widow, coated in blood and staggering even in her most fluid moves, was still stubbornly striving to land a hit.

Finally, irritated by their inability to land even a glancing blow, Loki twisted his hands to pull the Casket from its nest – and _pushed._ Ice coated, through and through, the buildings and people surrounding him, though he made sure to only grip the Avengers' feet (they might be more amusing later), and then he simply vanished.

* * *

**AN: **So, since I've been writing Loki as a sort of good guy through all of these, I figured I'd do one where he's just pure chaos. This one will have two chapters. It also takes place quite a while after 'Lady Loki's Pajamas'.

** Adri -** well, there goes the tenuous alliance! I'm working on filling in the gaps between these now, so hopefully the story will kind of make sense once it gets some more meat on its bones.

**AND IMPORTANT QUESTION! **Are there any specific relationships you want to see in here? I'd rather not do Frostiron given that I already have a series on that, but I'm up for most of them (except, I'm really picky about who Thor and Bruce are in relationships with) - so if you have any suggestions for any relationships, let me know!


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